


Clouds of Lullaby

by Cum_plete



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Child Abuse, Mental Instability, Minor Violence, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:24:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1746257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cum_plete/pseuds/Cum_plete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is loved, somewhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clouds of Lullaby

Jensen stalked between the trees, hiding among the cover they provided. It wouldn’t do if his prey saw him before he deemed it advantageous. 

Sneaking up on one of the most notorious crime bosses in D.C. was no cake walk, but Jensen knew that his skills were up to the task. He had been tracking the man and his entourage for hours, ducking in and out of the forest, even hiding in a stream bed for a while; but now the time was upon him. 

He had been directed to take down the leader with one shot, preferably in full sight of the arms dealers he was meeting in this secluded bit of forest. The deal scheduled to go down would have 6.5 million dollars and more semi-automatic weapons than currently owned by the entire country of Sudan changing hands right under the government’s nose. Jensen and his employers were charged with seeing that the deal never went through. 

Placing one foot delicately on a nearby stump and crouching down Jensen trained the crosshairs of his rifle on the target. Checking for wind speeds and distance Jensen made sure that he would hit his target and none of the other men gathered around him. There was a reason Jensen had been chosen for this particular assignment, he was quick and quiet with a crack shot. From more than 900 yards Jensen could make a shot as if it were point blank. Part of this was because of the superior weapon he had and part of it was years of hard work. 

Crouching there among the brush Jensen felt his mind lock into place. No unnecessary movements, hardly any breath, his heart even seemed to slow as he reached his Zen. Slowly pulling back on the trigger Jensen braced himself for the kickback. 

If Jensen made this shot not only would it be an exemplary mark on his record but it would also save countless lives and bring the black market to a grinding halt. So many people were depending on this one shot, and Jensen did not mean to disappoint. 

Jensen took one more stilted breath and squeezed the trigger. The shot seemed to travel in slow motion as Jensen let out his breath, waiting for the sound of contact. Six hundred yards, four hundred yards, two hundred yards, traveling faster than any normal man could see, the bullet traveled to its target. Hopefully to imbed itself in the man’s skull and end his reign of terror. 

One hundred yards, fifty yards…

“Jen-sen!” 

\--

_When a child is first born there is a time in which they have no secondary gender. They have not yet been identified as Alpha or Omega and are, for a short time, classified as Beta, one without gender. ___

_There is about a twenty minute interval that passes between birth and the blood test that will identify the child’s secondary gender. ___

_For an Omega this is the only time they will ever truly be treated with care._

_Unfortunately they will never remember it. ___

\--

Jensen jerked around to see his father stalking toward him looking furious and for a single moment he fantasized that he could use the rifle on another target. 

Throwing the stick/rifle onto the ground next to him and standing up he quickly attempted to dust the forest debris from his white tunic. The small leaves, twigs and bits of dirt had already stained the garment beyond repair but Jensen still tried to minimize the damage, a futile effort that was more nerves and habit than a real effort. No matter how many tunics he stained knowing the consequences beforehand, he still fruitlessly tried to tidy them when it came time to face the music. 

As his father approached Jensen stopped fussing with his clothes and adopted the required stance. Arms behind him with his hands clasped, head bowed enough that it was noticeable but not enough that he couldn’t see up through his fringe, back straight and knees locked; a subservient pose taught to him by his mother. 

As his father’s hand handed on his shoulder with enough force to buckle his knees Jensen felt the tears gather in his eyes. 

No matter how much his father yelled or how many bruises he left on Jensen’s dirt streaked skin, inside he was a warrior, and warriors do not cry. 

The first blow fell on Jensen’s face just as his mind retreated into the world of his own making. There he was strong and capable. He was trained and trusted, tough and valued for his accomplishments. In Jensen’s mind there was a whole world where he was appreciated. 

This time it had been a world renowned sniper that was charged with stopping a major arms smuggler. Last time he had been a violinist who preformed solos for crowds of millions. The time before that he had been a brave man who hunted monsters in the dark and took no credit, a man that was strong and, even if they were unconventional, had family who would do anything for him, even die. 

No matter who Jensen was in his mindscape, he was always loved and valued. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Evanescence song "Imaginary"


End file.
